Third Time
by misted-oracle
Summary: The third time's a charm...especially for Severus. Slash: SnapeFilch


**Title:** Third Time

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** Snape/Filch

**Summery:** The third time's a charm...especially for Severus.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, because if I did book five would have ended very differently, nor am I making any money off my writings.

* * *

**Third Time**  
  
The first time it happened, Severus was in his second year. And Filch had been...well, did the man ever really age, or was he just perpetually old? Severus hadn't been too sure how old Filch had been, but he supposed it didn't make much of a difference. He was his senior by far, so the exact number did little to change that.  
  
The man had always fascinated him; Severus was unsure why. Perhaps it was because Severus thought of them as similar, and he'd never met anyone who was akin to himself before. Or maybe it was just his private appeal. Filch had no one; he didn't depend or rely on anyone. He was self-sufficient and independent. And Severus found that oddly attractive when everyone around him relied so heavily on others. Filch survived well enough on his own, and Severus found that gave him a little hope for himself.  
  
And that's why he stumbled into Filch's office instead of Pomfrey's, his leg badly bruised and bleeding, walking with a heavy limp.  
  
Filch had looked up. He'd been sitting at his desk, his quill scurrying across a piece of parchment in a hurry, when Severus had opened the door. He'd forgotten to knock. Severus mentally kicked himself.  
  
Did Filch even know who he was? Severus doubted he was anything more than just another small, pasty Slytherin kid, who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time to Filch. He probably didn't even know his name. Yet he still showed up, eyes wide from nervousness and immediate embarrassment.  
  
"Boy?" Filch's eyes were not that of welcoming, or even consent, just annoyed wonderment that a child would willfully come down to his office.  
  
Severus took a step back, landing painfully hard on his abused leg. He should never have come. What had he been thinking, that Filch would sweep him up and heal his wounds? Severus felt a wretched sinking sensation hit his stomach. He turned to leave, to head for Pomfrey, where he should have gone in the first place.  
  
"Now where you going, with that leg, boy?" Filch's voice stopped him. Severus turned back, bewilderment obvious on his face, "sit down, let me find the bandages,"  
  
Severus did as he was told, sitting on the desk chair, wanting nothing more than to crawl under it and hide. Filch rummaged around in one of the cabinets, discarding a few odd items onto the shelf beside it as he looked for the bandages.  
  
Severus watched with awed amazement. He shouldn't be here, and yet Filch hadn't kicked him out. A flutter of excitement coursed through him.  
  
Filch kneeled in front of him, bandages and a cloth in hand. Severus's summer quidditch outfit revealed his pallid legs, colorless except for below the knee on the right one. It was tinged with black and blue, and blood crept from an open wound.  
  
"How'd you manage this lad?" Filch asked curiously as he wiped the trickling blood off with the cloth.  
  
Severus almost recoiled in response to the gentleness of his touch. He felt his cheeks flush pink, though he tried to ignore it.  
  
"Black and Potter hit a few bludgers at me after practice," he answered sullenly, wishing the hotness in his face would decrease.  
  
Filch said nothing, only wrapped the clean white bandages around Severus's scrawny leg, making sure they were fitted tightly. He tied them at the back and patted Severus on the knee.  
  
"There lad, you're fine now," Filch told him, as he stood up stiffly from his position on the ground. Severus got to his feet, the telltale blush still settled blatantly across his cheeks.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Filch," he mumbled, before all but running from his office.  
  
The second time had been when Severus was seventeen and nearing the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts. He had not been in Filch's office since that day in his second year, and he had planned never to go back, which thankfully he didn't.  
  
He'd also planned never to go to Filch like that again.  
  
Suffice to say, that hadn't quite worked out as he hoped. Though he could hardly blame himself, it had after all been entirely Black and Potter's fault.  
  
And Lupin's, he thought bitterly as Pomfrey hauled him up the stairs to the infirmary. Potter had already been sent to retrieve Black and take him to the Headmaster's office, and Severus was fated to be stuck with Pomfrey for the remainder of the night.  
  
The only consolation he could see in this, having nearly had his arm ripped off by a werewolf's claw, was that Black and Potter would likely be expelled and that mutt of a friend of theirs was likely to be executed. Well worth the night in the hospital wing, Severus thought ruefully.  
  
"I'll just clean you're wounds and wrap them for you, then you can get some rest, unless of course, Albus wants to speak with you later," the elderly nurse spoke, as she guided Severus to a bed.  
  
"If you so much as touch me with that..." Severus threatened, as Pomfrey approached him with a jar of blue liquid in her hand.  
  
"Now, Severus, this shouldn't sting," she smiled gently, sitting next to him as she removed the cork from the jar and applied vast amounts of liquid to a cloth.  
  
"I don't want you doing that!" he nearly shouted, overcome suddenly with rage. He hated all these meddling, busybody teachers, "I can do it myself," he made a grab for the jar, but Pomfrey stood up abruptly, a frown evident on her aged face.  
  
"Mr. Snape, I know you've been through a lot tonight, but rest assured I'm only trying to help," she said, her voice tight with restraint. Severus didn't so much as blink.  
  
"You won't touch me," he stated firmly.  
  
"Then who should?" she asked, crossing her arms about her chest.  
  
"Mr. Filch," Severus cursed himself as he spoke the name. Why had he said that? Severus tried not to look as stunned as Pomfrey, attempting to remain calm and keep his face neutral.  
  
Pomfrey pursed her lips. For a moment she looked as though she was going to contradict him, but then she eyed his arm, which was looking more and more inflamed, "Fine," she conceded.  
  
As she went to floo him over, Severus remained stationary in his bed, trying to think up an excuse to tell Filch. He couldn't think of one that could possibly pass for being even partially true.  
  
When Filch walked in, looking tired and slightly disheveled, his night robes hanging loosely over his frame, Severus had the distinct urge to run from the room, but he didn't, he only stayed still in his bed, waiting for the inevitable question about why the hell Filch was up here in the first place.  
  
But it never came. Filch simply sat beside him on the bed, took his arm gently into his reach, being careful not to jar it and began rubbing the salve over it. Pomfrey left without a word, and Filch worked quietly, leaving the hospital wing in complete silence, except for Severus's slightly breathless breathing.  
  
Filch bound his arm securely in bandages, looking up at Severus to make sure he hadn't tied them too tight. Severus avoided his eyes, cursing as he felt another blush cross his cheeks. Filch noticed nothing, and if he had he didn't say a word about it.  
  
When he was finished, Filch released his arm and questioned Severus, "Is that all you need, lad?" Severus nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.  
  
Filch made to leave, but Severus found himself grabbing his arm before he left the bed, pulling him back closer. Filch eyes him curiously, about to ask what was going on, but Severus didn't let him start.  
  
The Slytherin boy leaned forward in a rush, pressing his lips against Filch's tight ones. He didn't know why he was doing this, and he couldn't have said what he'd hoped would happen, but he acted anyway.  
  
Filch was unresponsive at best. He sat prone and straight, his lips shut together in a firm lock. Severus pressed harder against him, knowing he was in over his head to begin with and that he might as well try to get some enjoyment out of this.  
  
Then without any indication Filch kissed back, opening his lips against Severus's, causing the younger boy to gasp slightly. Filch's lips weren't soft or silky and he didn't taste sweet, but Severus was drawn in and leaned closer, pressing the full expanse of his body against Filch's.  
  
It was too good; Severus let out a strangled moan as his cock stiffened in his trousers. Filch was still kissing him hard, his tongue rubbing the walls of Severus's mouth, when he felt the younger boy's arousal press hard against his thigh.  
  
He pulled away in a swift motion, pushing Severus back against the headboard as he stood up briskly from the bed and stormed from the hospital wing, leaving Severus alone and panting.  
  
The third time was many years later, after Severus had long since graduated and returned to the school, this time to teach.  
  
Severus limped painfully into the teacher's lounge, cursing that damned dog of Hagrid's silently. His bandages were nearly soaked through already and he'd just changed them hours ago. His blood-clotting potion wouldn't be ready for a few days, so he'd just have to tough it out until then.  
  
He wasn't about to show up at Pomfrey's door, asking for a potion like some little third year student, and he didn't want to arouse any messy questions regarding how he'd received the bite. The Headmaster probably wouldn't like the idea of him sneaking around the third floor corridor.  
  
So he staggered in the teacher's lounge, needing some extra bandages. He was sure he'd seen some in there the other day...perhaps in the back cabinets.  
  
Severus rummaged around, searching for something to keep his leg in place when he heard a deep voice speak to him from behind. He thought he'd been alone.  
  
"Need some help, boy?" Severus turned around, trying not to stumble, only to see Filch standing a few paces behind him holding a bundle of bandages. Severus narrowed his eyes angrily. He didn't appreciate being called a boy.  
  
"No," he sneered, "I'm fine on my own, just hand me those bandages," Severus stretched his hand out so Filch could pass him what he wanted, but the older man did nothing of the sort. Instead he lightly pushed Severus down into a nearby chair and started to unwrap the bloody bandages.  
  
And this time when Severus kissed him, he didn't pull away.

Fin.


End file.
